I, Gil Grissom
by DCIPHOENIX
Summary: Set after S5 EP13. Sara's noticed Grissom's acting oddly, decides to confront him. Gets a surprise ...and then some. Sounds better than it is. Do please R&R. Romantic & Supernatural-ness!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No copyright intended. I don't own CSI; I'm only playing with the characters. Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Zukier, CBS and those guys do!

Author's note: Been a while since I've wrote anything. Apologies, I've just not got my laptop out of the bag recently. But today 11/04/11 at 17:06* – (that's basically a note to self) I got my laptop outta my bag, dusted it off, turned it on, opened a Word Doc. Then with a brain full of CSI: CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATION and some motivation from Lord knows where... I am now writing my 1st CSI fic. It's just some rambles, really. A handful of CSI-ness and a sprinkling of supernatural goodies! Before you ask, no. it's not supernatural the show. Okay, so! Turn down 4music; cast yours eyes down to the screen. Off we go! P.S do read and review, please don't pickup majorly on grammatical mistakes and/or issues I write purely with storyline and imagination. Thanks. *Completed 21/05/11 14:32.

Title: I, Gil Grissom.

Characters: Gil Grissom and? I'm not gonna tell... I wanna surprise you!

Rating: T – (I know, I'm sorry! I was gonna raise my game but I decided against it last minute. It's got minor smut well not smut exactly... more romance FYI, more adventure and CSI-ness, suspense and supernatural goings on.)

Spoilers: s5 ep13/25 –

Author: DCIPHOENIX aka Rosie Phoenix.

I, Gil Grissom

Chapter One

The usual familiar sights of Grissom's office, the oddly comforting scenery and atmosphere were no more. There was no more warmth in the room. It was taken by the darkness. The dimmed lighting and closure of the room, being caused by having the blinds shut. The undisrupted, hardworking CSIs were working on on-going cases were nonplussed, they either were unaware or didn't care - one of the two. But to her it screamed out at her. The oddness called to her. She heard it. She_ felt_ it... It was almost scary.

As soon as she stepped in the room the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something in the air made her spine tingle as if someone was walking over her grave. She tucked a lock of chocolate brown hair behind her ear which fell out of place and mingled once again with her short dark hair which hung like a curtain over her shoulders.

"Grissom?" She asked the darkness. Shutting the door behind her she stepped into the dim shadows which clung to the walls and floor. The only source of light was the eerie blue radiating from the lamp on Grissom's desk. It was all so damn dark! Her voice was small and timid in the room of darkness. She couldn't hear her own voice all that well so even if there were someone here they certainly wouldn't be able...

"What brings you here, Sara Sidle?" Grissom answered her question from somewhere in the darkness. Answering her question with a question is a sign of intelligence and intelligence is certainly one of Grissom's qualities. His voice was curious and she could hear and note the challenge in his question. Sara wetted her lower lip, pulling the skin with her teeth accidently tearing a layer off. She cleared her throat before answering his reply.

"I'm not answering you, until I know where you are." She challenged.

"Well, let your ears be your eyes and they will guide you to me." Grissom quipped.

Sara walked around a shelf of Grissom's jars and collections of species and god-knows what. There he was sitting... no. Brooding in a chair situated in the book section of his collections. Even though she was stood he was still looking down at her from over the rims of his glasses. Sat relaxed and composed with his fingers interlinked, which rested his chin, elbows placed on his knees. His expression one of mystery as his features was obscured by the dark. Sara squinted to see him and searched to find his eyes. She realised he was staring straight back at her. His eyes were on her. His attention was focused on her yet he wasn't facing her.

"I still can't quite see you..." Sara spoke. '_I didn't just say that out loud did I?' _She thought.

"As ever I see you're still perceptive." Grissom's voice drifted to her. Sara pouted back she didn't know why she did it he probably couldn't see her too.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Sara answered back. She folded her arms in front of herself but quickly raised her hand and grasped the cool metal of the shelf frame she was leaning on, propping her elbow on an unoccupied area of a shelf. Knowing only too well that Gil would pick up on her body language and confront her about it. She thought he smirked at her but she was unsure. Suddenly he'd raised himself up from the lower confines of the chair and was stood directly in front of her. Gil held his hands up a little, showing her his palms. "Is this better?" He cocked his head and blatantly questioned. A rhetorical one? Sara wasn't sure. She just shrugged.

"Ah...yeah. I suppose. I can actually see you now." She answered with a slight frown.

"You've still not answered my question, Sara." Grissom pressed on. The use of her name and the way he said it. It made her shiver a second time this evening. It was like she did something wrong and he was telling her off. This was unlike him. This was becoming an odd experience. "You've still not told me what you're doing here."

Sara shifted away a little and widened her eyes at him. "Well I never really thanked you..." She shifted her eyes away from his and with a heart-felt sigh she continued. "For when you came to check on me yesterday. After yelling at Ecklie and everyone..." She shook her head a little angry at herself. "I guess I just needed to talk to someone. Someone who I trusted and that person was you." She looked back at him, his eyes still on her. "Lucky you." She raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. "Also, I've not really seen you recently. I just thought I'd catch up, but when I saw the blinds down. I thought you might be ill or something..." She was cut off by Grissom.

"No. Not ill. I just like it dark in here... " He reassured. He took a long pause. "Have I seemed different to you lately? Odd or not myself?" He questioned.

"Well yeah! Now you are, with all the questions and all..." She smirked.

"Hmm, well here's another question for you." Gil began. His voice full of mystery with hints of curiosity. "Do you believe in the supernatural?"

Sara suddenly forgot the odd event which has taken place and laughed a little to herself. "Ah, well, well, well. I knew it'd have to happen someday, the famous Gil Grissom is a wanna-be Mulder."

Gil gave a pained expression. He slowly walked over to his desk. Sara in his wake. As soon as they'd moved her gaze was back to his. Her attention was back to him. Eager to hear whatever he had to tell.

"I mean it, Sara. Do you believe in ghosts? That dead loved ones haunt the living? That a man can transform into a Werewolf when there's a full moon? That there's a long line of vampires and that they may now live amongst us?" He whispered. Clearly deep in thought and interested in her opinion. What had brought this on? What she should be thinking is 'why is he thinking of this'?

"Umm, I'm not sure. It's not something I've gave much thought on. It's not a matter that interests me in my work or my home life." She frowned. "This is going somewhere isn't it?" _Of course it is, it's Gil! _She amused herself. "Anyway, as they say – seeing is believing." Sara shrugged.

"I'm glad you think that way."

"Why's that?"

Grissom slowly pinched the corner of the frame of his glasses and slowly pulled them from his eyes. Which were still firmly fixed on hers. His lips in a firm straight line. No expression. No emotion present. "Because I, Gil Grissom not long ago had a strange experience happen to me. I appeared to have suffered memory loss and blood loss. I had two puncture marks on my neck. Though I was afraid I stepped into the sunlight and did not burn. I see my reflected image. I can touch crucifixes. All the usual supposed ways to kill, maim or uncover something that I am... doesn't work."

Sara was confused. Even more confused as a pair of large hands grasped her waist. His fingers were splayed out, reaching her belt loops on her jeans. The pressure of him behind her. A gasp of her inner confusion making itself known. Her hair on her neck pricked up to attention once again this night. She opened her mouth to speak in this confusing not to mention odd moment. But she found herself unable to speak. She felt utterly embarrassed. She sighed. She decided to try again. Her mouth was dry.

"Gil, I... I'm confused. You're... But you can't be... its impossible isn't it? You're talking about yourself if you were a vampire. What do you think your doing?" She felt a cool finger sweep a strand of hair away from her neck. This barely reached her shoulder. She felt it tickle the flesh on her neck. Gil observed this with unfaltering curiosity and obsession.

Her breathing was hard. Uncontrolled. It needed to be back under control.

Grissom pulled her slowly against her, his large muscular arm keeping her in place as he pulled her head against his shoulder, his palm half on her cheek, his fingers combed into her hair.

Sara, being slightly smaller than him, felt uncomfortable but oddly trusting in what he was doing.

"You trust me, don't you?" He asked her. Not being graced with an answer.

Sara feeling his breath across her cheek, it moved a strand of hair. She watched it out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze was on the radiated foetal pig which reflected each and every movement he was making. Its distorted images were the only thing she could hold onto and make any sense at all on the event.

Grissom lowered his head, pressing his nose to her skin and smelt her skin. He deeply inhaled. Closing his eyes as he did so. She smelt of vanilla. Some sort of womanly lotion or moisturiser, a faint hint of lemons and fear, fear which he could feel and see in her posture. Her arms were limp but her hands were clenched in tight fists. Her breathing was fast and hard, he could feel it. Her lungs expanding and retracting with each breath. Feeling her ribs prominent through her thin shirt. Her flesh on her neck was warm, warm and strained. Goosebumps and freckles dotted her skin. He dipped her head further down slightly to press his cheek to his, his bristly beard only making the situation more real, no dream. He sighed and quickly inhaled. "You smell amazing Sara, nearly everything I was expecting in you." He spoke. Not expecting an answer from his suffering subordinate. He ran his lips from the corner of her jaw to her ear, gently kissing her smooth skin, which was raised in parts. From her ear he swiftly ran the length of her neck with his rough lips. He stopped at her collarbone. Feeling, searching out her jugular vein. Feeling her rushing blood. Pressing his lips to her skin. A parting kiss. Before opening his jaw, widening his mouth to clamp the soft skin between his lips, his wet inner lips damping her flesh. He found her vein. Found her fear. Pressing his teeth to her flesh...

"_Oh no! Stop, Gil! Please stop... God! I know what you're doing. I... oh god... I, I know what you are!" Her poor attempt at stopping him. Her cry of help which wasn't even all that loud. It wouldn't cause attention. He was not bothered by her fraternised whimper._

...But what was he doing? He was preparing to feast? Preparing to take a life? Ready to do an unforgivable task? To take_ her_ life. But could he do it? Could he take a friend's life that he had feeling for? To sink his teeth into her flesh, to pierce her skin? To suck her flesh? In a desperate and frantic murder? Only to drink her blood? To strengthen his life whilst ending her own? Could he do it? Would he do it? Could he live with the thought and knowing he had killed her? Could he take her life?

**Uh-oh! What's gonna happen? Is he gonna bite her? Is he gonna kill her? I would say it's all up to you, but I have a very strong idea of what's going to happen- but to spur me on, or even to change my mind. Do please, please, please tell me what you would like to happen in your review. You know, write 'Bite' or 'not bite' as your 1****st**** line. Then you can carry on with your review. Which I really, really want! I want your reviews, readers. I love you all! Thanks for reading! Chapter Two will be here... ummm, at some near, distant date in the future!**

xxxxxDCIPHOENIXxxxxx


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Until I'm told otherwise, I still don't own CSI, unfortunately. If I did, I would bring Grissom back into the team!

A/N: I now realise that the 1st chapter was really different type of writing for me, it's quite gloomy and dark- I had no idea how it'd turn out, but I just hoped you like it! As I write for my readers as well as my own personal feelings of writing awesome fics! I dedicate this chapter & story to my fab cousin Leanne Rose Musson!

**I, Gil Grissom - Chapter Two**

Of course he could. At this moment in time, anything was possible, he felt stronger, _was_ stronger. He felt capable of anything and anything was what he was planning. To take her life would be plain murder. To take her life would be plain wrong. Plain wrong is just what he was.

...He sank his teeth into her flesh.

Her river of metallic scarlet met his teeth and lips, acting as a stopper to stop her precious blood from escaping his mouth. It was sickly sweet and unlike anything he'd ever tasted, harsh and metallic yet sweet. His mouth was full of her blood. He drank her, he needed her, was thirsty for her. It strengthened him, empowered him. Not lingering on just one mouthful of her blood, in need of more.

She opened her mouth on contact in a fraternised gasp of pain, horror and shock. She kept her mouth open in a strained and forced 'o' shape, but no screaming escaped her lips. Her neck was still strained; her tendons and muscles still tense. Her breathing laboured her chocolate brown eyes wide with fear under his attack. She was like one of many actresses in silent movies, as their acing and expression spoke so many words without them having to say a single word. Amongst many feelings that rushed through Sara's loosing blood. This was one of them.

Sara Sidle fell to her knees. Her knees coming into contact with the navy blue carpet, her joints aching as they plummeted south.

Sara blacked out.

-CSI-

The navy blue carpet was flat against her cheek, her left eye was in the shadows created by her lying flat against the floor, near to being parallel to Grissom's desk Sara inhaled carpet dust. So scared to open her eyes, in fear on who or what will meet her sight, Sara let her four other senses guide her and describe the scene.

There was no sound in the room. Silence was the only describable sound along with a hum of talk and evidence processing machinery in the outside labs, nothing in the office and nothing of any threat.

Sara Sidle was sprawled out on the navy carpet of Grissom's office, her arms were bent out in front of her as she had braced herself as the floor seemed to rise up and punch her in the face. Perhaps that was the reason for the dull ache in her left cheek bone. Her legs were bent perpendicular to each other; her palms were splayed out, her fingers outstretched, feeling the rough thread of the carpet, her fingers slowly making small circles that made her fingertips feel slightly fuzzy, it reassured Sara that she was still alive.

Continuing in creating small circles on the carpet as she inhaled deeply yet deathly silent, she couldn't deny, Sara smelt blood. Years of being a CSI, she was like a human sniffer dog to it, a moth to a flame, a Criminalist to blood. Sara just had to determine where the sickly stench was coming from.

Sara's chocolate brown eyes flashed open, immediately worried that they'd either meet a bright white light or Grissom, her supposed attacker. Instead her pupils dilated and focused on the desks nearest leg Sara grabbed it and pulled herself up, groaning quietly as there was a painful sharp pull in her neck, Sara brushed her fingers over the source of the pain, imminently making it worse. Sucking in a breath through clenched teeth she looked at her fingers, small traces of blood clung to each finger; she rubbed it off with her thumb. She was going to pull herself up to a standing position when a small yet audible creak spilt the silence in two.

In a second Sara was looking up into the blue eyes of her boss, Gil Grissom.

Her first intention was to pull herself up, however painful it was and render him injured somehow, this was all before she saw the concerned look in his eyes. "What did you do to me?" Sara spoke, her voice clear and capable of being heard where the courage to speak came from baffled her.

"Well the long and the short of it is... I've turned you, Sara." Grissom replied linking his fingers together as he spoke.

"Into what exactly?" She answered back, running her tongue the length of her upper teeth.

"A vampire." Gil Grissom blatantly responded.

"Right... so why don't I have fangs?" Sara questioned, trying but failing to pull her self up by the desk.

Grissom prised her hand away from the glass-topped desk and carefully pulled her up; careful to not hurt her. "I don't have the answer to that, Sara."

Sara Sidle took Grissom's offering hand. If he had meant to hurt her, surely he'd have just left her to bleed out and die of her injuries. She took his hand hoping to find out what possessed to hurt his subordinate. Grissom had pulled her up then silently told her to sit on the edge of his desk where he inspected her neck wound.

"How are you feeling?" Gil asked with true honest concern and consideration in his voice.

"I don't know Grissom, how am I supposed to feel after being bitten by my boss who's now a vampire and have suffered major blood loss?" Sara almost shouted, but raising her voice and talking hurt her neck, her neck muscles tightened to the point where she felt like she couldn't breathe, her mouth was dry as a bone and her head pounded; probably her blood warming and circulating around her body.

"I don't know either, Sara." Grissom responded.

"It could be the fact that I'm not a vampire. A) They don't exist and B)..." Sara picked up a 6x4 brown cardboard box with a note pinned inside along with a piece of pink coloured gauze that seemed to have a pink tinge to it. "... You have this." Sara pointed to the cardboard box.

Sara had regained her strength somehow and her brain was in its CSI Criminalist mode within a batter of an eyelid, her first initial thought were to take the package down to the chemical analyser.

Sara Sidle staggered away from the desk in Grissom's office and out into he clear walled corridors of CSI Vegas, carrying the suspicions package after asking Grissom about when he got it exactly, he says he couldn't remember but that it was around the time he apparently got bitten. She then headed to go and see Greg- the most reliable lab tech or lab rat, he wouldn't ask too many questions about the pertaining case the package was from, or ask Sara about her current physical condition. When she stepped into the fishbowl of a forensics lab Sara realised there was no lab tech on duty, she cocked an eyebrow and decided that she'd test it herself when, "Hey Sara, how you been doin'?"

Greg's slightly nasal young voice pricked up her ears and made her smile slightly.

"I'm good Greg; I just need this processing ASAP." Sara faked a smile, giving the young, fair haired lab tech the package, covering her small healing wound on her neck precariously with her hand trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. "I want the whole deal on this, Greg, okay? Fingerprints, DNA and I think that piece of gauze there has a chemical on it, I need it soon as."

"O-kayo the whole shebang the full Monty at light speed comin' right up" Greg smirked then asked. "What case is this? Has the lab got some suspicious mail?" Greg put on some latex gloves and took the box from Sara, eyeing her up carefully.

Sara took in a deep sigh, she couldn't lie to Greg, she couldn't lie to anyone, and it was in her blood and her personality. "No case, Greg. This is something personal; I'd hope you can keep this to yourself." Sara glanced at the floor, rubbing her neck carefully, looking back at Greg; he had a half suspicious and concerned expression on his face.

Greg smiled slightly. "Just give me a minuet, Sara. Well not a minuet more like a few." Greg rambled, getting some swabs and his forensic equipment to test each and every possible on what was in this curious box he was also going to run some databases, he then turned on a small boom box that blasted out some rock music.

Sara listened to the loud tunes, them not entertaining her, but obviously amusing the young blonde lab tech as he busied himself with his work Sara had entrusted him with. After a few minutes and head-banging from Greg, he handed Sara a chemical analysis fresh out of the machine, three letters had her eyebrows shoot up a fraction. "Thanks, Greg." Sara told him as she read the sheet to herself.

"No problem, Sara and don't worry, I won't tell a soul." Greg told her honestly.

Half smiling at Greg, Sara went back to Grissom's office, watching him pondering over his array of books and jars on his desk. Sara skimmed the page across his desk, announcing her arrival silently. "You're not a vampire." Sara told him confidently. "The piece of gauze had traces, large traces of LSD. LSD, Grissom! It's supposed to make you more susceptible and suggestive; to make you believe anything you hear or anything you read. The handwritten note in the bottom of the box was telling you that you were a vampire; someone set you up, Grissom. Someone set you up to believe you were something that not even you could prove is real or not, I bet someone did this so you'll falter in your ways and become careless in your work; ...so you'd think you can't prove things anymore." Sara Sidle told him matter-of-factly, as she carried on telling him about her findings, a smile slowly grew on her lips until Grissom answered her.

"I know." Grissom said simply.

"You know?"Sara answered, clearly riled.

"Yes. As you took the box to Greg, I went to Doc Robbins and had a quick TOX panel on my blood. It had traces of LSD in it. But at the same time, that small trace of LSD that was left had left my system, it was already on its way out." Grissom replied.

"Alright..." Sara started, steadying her breathing, "but who would want to do that do you?"

"No-one." Grissom began. "The box was pertaining to a case; I was handling it and must have inhaled or consumed some of the LSD substance on the gauze without wearing gloves." Grissom informed Sara.

"So it was all an accident?" Sara asked confused, her eyebrows hitched up a notch.

"A piece of evidence endangered my life, that's not an accident." Grissom advised raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah. You're right. It was quite a large amount of LSD that was on the gauze; well it had to be to change your vast mind." Sara smiled; her warm brown eyes finally expressed a calm expression towards Grissom. "What I couldn't understand was why you bit me under your intoxication." Sara pondered out loud.

"Well, perhaps my intoxicated self, believing he was a vampire was lonely and wanted a vampire friend." Grissom answered her stridently. "You should get yourself a TOX panel and perhaps a rabies injection."

Sara widened her eyes noticeably. "But I didn't touch the gauze, I simply carried the box to Greg, I feel fine, Grissom. But if it puts your mind at rest I'll do it."

Grissom nodded, "Thank you, Sara but you'll do it after we go to Greg and get the rest of the results from that cardboard box, he still has the fingerprints and possible DNA from it, we need it for the case." Grissom smirked as Sara nodded in agreement he then thought to himself that never again will he doubt his knowledge in books and his bugs, that something improvable is most probably fake and unreliable. Grissom was never really a man of faith but he knew always to keep his faith in his work and in science, in hope that it will give him answers, as it always does. He kept his faith in everyone in the lab and his team that with a tiny speck of dust or the smallest droplet of blood they will find what or who it is that left it there and that with the most fickle fingerprint is traceable and that will always give him answers, he always got answers. He had faith in Greg who inspected and ran tests on the cardboard box, he had faith that he will see to it, his team will always see to it.

He will always get answers.

**The End! Whoa, this took me ages to write huh? I just hope you all liked where I took it, please tell me in a review! Thank you for reading!**


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